Gladiator's Tale - A Testament to Intrigue and Blood

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"So why did ye sign up for dis?" The convict spoke to me. It was hard to understand him through his cracked teeth.

"Me? Oh. I uhm." I gulped, I didn't wanted to get beaten into a bloody pummel before the match had even started. "I was in debt to the New Roman Government. M-My trinket shop wasn't to succesful?"

"Trinket shop ey?" The convict smirked. "After this I'll make sure to make a necklace out of your ears."

"I err. I uhm." I gulped and started moving through the crowd of other people who had signed up. I didn't want to be near the brute during the start. He'd likely kill me first and I wasn't in a hurry for that.

I bumped into one of the guards. He turned around and pushed me. I fell onto some people who lifted me back up and backed away. "You have a problem mate?" The guard spoke with a British accent.

"N-No." A couple of the other wanna-be gladiators smirked. "I was just trying to get away from t-"

"Trying to run off huh?" The guard laughed and stepped on a box. "Oi, Mort! We got a runner offer over here!"

A big deep voice replied. "Send em' to the front then!"

The front was the worst place. The Emperor was always eager to fill in the worst spots first, those ones were close to whatever monsters they were able to get their hands on or mutate.

"Clear a path!" The guards voice boomed over the crowd people started to shuffle a small path, he grabbed me by the arm and dragged me to the front.

"Who's this then?" A large and fat man, wearing a Captain's uniform spit at as he talked.

"That means whats your name you empty-headed wanker." He hit me over the head.

"Ow!" That brought a laugh from everyone near me. I looked down not wanting to show my red hot face. "The names Willem mi'lady."

"Mi'lady?" The fat man slobbered all over his red armor. A few others laughed "Willem considers himself a comedian!"

"No I just supposed by the size of your breasts that you were a woman." I was quite angry with this man, he was going to get me killed. I had figured, make fun of him while I can. Everyone laughed.

The fat man laughed himself. "I'll make sure to get you an extra special weapon."

Great, now I was not only going to die but I was also going to have nothing to give me the illusion of hope. This was turning out to be a great day.

A few minutes had passed, I didn't talk to anyone, just stood, my legs ached. I was used to standing for an hour in the same place but so far I was having a hard time with the six hours of standing. Then a hatch opened, the rusty iron brought dust and light to fall upon the crowd.

"Alright. Raise the gate, we are starting." Then the man closed the hatch and then the fat man hit a button. The wooden gate slowly began to move as the chains pulled it up.

I could see the crowd, already cheering. There were lots of them today to see the start of the new cycle of the arena. It was bright, I had to squint to see. The arena was sand and huge. I could see several other gates opened and more opening. It was said thousands came into the start of a new cycle and only hundreds come out. However, all the sand would absorb the blood.

"Get on out there then!" The fat man pushed me up the ramp, there were guards in armor wearing helmet. They looked at me as I passed. "Make sure to give this one the best you've got."

The final man wore gold embroidered armor. A laugh was heard through the hard steel of his helmet. He was present a very large bag, he pulled something out of it. It was a rifle, a laz rifle. He looked at it, nodded and then laughed. He put it back in the bag. "Oops." He then pulled out a ten pack of metal spoons and tossed it to me.

"Really?" Well now, humiliated, dead and hopeless. I was sent out into the Arena.

The Emperor sat in his seat, looking up all the first from each gate. He pointed at one man, then a spot and did the same for everyone else. He always does this for the first thirty or so before he lets the complex computers do his work for him, which was much more efficient and let the games play within a reasonable amount of time.

I was sent next to a cage that contained something that looked like a mix between a tiger, a shark and praying mantis. It had so many teeth and then those arms were just plain scary.

"Great."

I broke open the plastic holds on the ten pack of spoons, took one in one hand the nine left in the other. I figured I would throw them or something. It might be entertaining for the people to watch as I try to crawl away as the praying tiger shark thing was eating my legs.

It wasn't long before the Emperor grew tired of arranging the Gladiators, he then waved off to a nearby noblemen to run the computer program. The Nobleman walked over to the giant computer and hit one button starting it all.

Messages were sent to each gate and the prisoners were filed out ten at a time getting told where to go and then more soldiers were overviewing the process actually on the Arena.

There were so many gladiators, I counted at least two hundred. Only twenty five us would come out of this match, then the next battle would come on the next day.

I managed to get myself on the day when everyone wants blood. The first day. Brilliant right?

The horn blared and it started. The monsters cages doors opened and we were given to go to battle. I could hear everything from battle cries, screams, gun shots, laser shots and roaring as I looked at the praying tiger shark and gulped. It looked back and me and then began to charge all four legs beating against the ground.

I threw a spoon at it's eye, it missed and hit it in the next, it didn't do much. I panicked dropped my spoons and ran, not anywhere specific but just away.

A gladiator looked at me and ran over. He began to swing his broad sword at me but I had reacted faster and leaped off to my left. The Tiger monster decided to give up the chase on me and attacked the broad sword guy.

I looked behind me it horror. It ripped apart the dude with it's arms and then turned around to look at me again. I muttered a curse and got to my feet.

I then spied the shotgun not far away. I ran towards it at lightning speed and I could hear the creature roaring as it began to run as well. I was about to grab the shotgun when I felt a man throw me back.

I got to my feet and he picked the shotgun up and pointed it at me. I kicked it out of the way and it shot. He then pushed me again and charged at me while I was on the ground. I picked up a knife I saw near me and then stuck it upward closing my eyes.

I felt him topple on me. He was heavy. I pushed him off of me and took a deep breathe. Then the tiger monster leaped onto him sinking it's teeth in. I yelped and dashed for the shotgun, I caught the beasts attention, I grabbed it and turned around and shot.

It stopped mid air falling to the ground. I then inspected the shotgun, I saw it was a over and under shotgun. I opened the barrel and the two empty shells flew out. I looked around quick and couldn't find anything.

"Fucking hell." I grabbed a dirk and looked nearby, there was still lots of gladiators and lots of people to get through.
 
Shifting his weight from foot to foot, Aurelius anxiously awaited the opening of the gates. His opinion of the whole tournament was a bit complicated. Part of him was excited for the bloody hunt to come, and part of him insisted that it was inhumane and that he should withdraw. The conflict was something he'd lived with most of his adult life, since his job typically ended in death. He craved the thrill of the hunt, the feeling of holding another thing's life in his hands. Actually kill that thing, however, and he couldn't help but feel terrible about it. It was an interesting blend of features in a single person.
Taking a deep breath, he accepted the short mace a guard shoved into his hand. Just about time, he thought to himself, walking to his place. The creature nearest to him was horrendously ugly. He couldn't even distinguish the animals they'd packed the poor thing with. It had claws, though, he knew that much. And a glare in its pale yellow eyes.
Smiling softly, he met the creature's eyes and whispered to it, "You're uglier than me, buddy." It snarled at him, almost as if it understood his words. Aurelius wouldn't be surprised if they added intelligence to the mutated beasts; it made for a more interesting fight. So, the two merely stared at each other until the horn blared.
When it did, Aurelius jumped back, knowing that it would pounce him as soon as the gate opened.
That's what it did.
He used his mace to take the creature down, but it left numerous scratches on his arms and shoulders.
Damn, I'm not used to fighting...beasts. Not of the animal kind.
Standing, he hissed in pain and looked around. He needed an ally. No way he could take on all these people and the animals all by himself.
His eyes fixed on a man who had just blasted a mutated beast with a shotgun. Judging by the way he scrambled to pick up the dirk, he was no veteran. Probably a civilian. Might even be the first time he was in a battle. Swerving around various groups locked in combat around the arena, he made his way to the man.
"You watch my ass, I'll watch yours."
The phrase was simple and direct, like the man himself. Exactly how odd or how suspicious offering an alliance to another fighter while in the arena might be didn't even cross his mind.
 
"Y-yeah." I looked at the man for a second before turning around. I figured that if it came down to it I would be an easy opponent for him but until then I'm a friend. I knew having someone watch my back would help. For a big guy like him, who knows what miracles someone fast could do for him.

A knife whizzed by my face and I looked around to see where it came from. A man running at me had a sword through his belt and several very sharp looking knifes in his hand. He threw another, I ducked and he missed. He then dropped the knives and took out his sword and charged me.

I stepped to the left and he swung down. I leaped away and then back. He swung his sword again, it was clear he wasn't the strongest of men and the sword was quite heavy. I dodged yet again and then lept for my chance. I fell onto him and felt my dirk pierce his stomach. He groaned and I pulled it out and then drove it into his head. Blood went every where.

I then stood up and saw a man with a dagger approaching my new found friend from the rear. I ran for him and as he was about to stab my clueless friend in the head, I shoved the dirk up his back. He squeled and I pulled it out letting him fall dead.

I gulped and smiled a bit as my friend turned to look at me. "N-Names Willem." Today's combat was far from over.
 
Aurelius nodded and grinned. Well, maybe he has promise after all. The civilian had just saved his life, after all. He decided to remember the name, Willem. "Call me Ace," he replied, knowing that his full name was far too long to say in the middle of a full on battle. After pulling the sword from the dead man's hands, he grinned. Not like the dead need their weapons any way. Once sufficiently armed, he walked over to Willem. "Back to back?" he asked, lifting his brows. Simplest, easiest way to take on all attackers.
 
Scarlet Carver
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Scarlet stepped into the arena, her arms crossed an annoyed look on her face. She glanced around, people were beginning to team up and the though occurred that she might need to as well, but then again she's been fighting animals and creatures basically all her life. She could totally handle this shit. When a shot gun was dropped in front of her by one of the Arena managers looked up and he mouthed "Your parents". Miranda glared at him and then at the shotgun as if it was something evil, before smashing her heel into it breaking the barrel.

She looked around, a sword that was embedded into the ground catching her eye. She ran over grabbing it. Glancing at the cameras knowing that he parents were watching, taking all of her will not to flick them off right there.

She shook the wrist of her arm, twirling the blade lightly. While she hopped slightly between feet getting a feel for the ground. She could definitely handle this. Definitely. She brought her hand over to the handle so that she could grip the large broad sword much better, prepared for the wave of monsters to come. And when they did she ran straight into the crowd. There will be few survivors after this, and she planned on being one of them.

Her sword slowly cut into monsters flesh their blood splattering all over the ground and on her armor. She didn't care much as soon as everything was dead the sooner this would be over. She was so concentrated on this one disgusting creature that she didn't notice another pounce behind her till the last minute only to be beheaded by a familiar voice.

"Cid." Scarlet said briefly before killing the monster she was previously preoccupied with.

El-Cid Ferox
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Cid "The Tiger" Ferox walked out into the soon to be gory battlefield. The anticipation of the fight slowly exciting him. Enough for him to forget about his current objective momentarily. His Merc-mate Maya was supposed to be fighting with him today. And if she preformed as well as she would do on their missions that she would definitely be fine and so would he.

He took the position right in front of the gates, a daring smile on his face as he held two large axes in both of his trained hands. It was usually a trademark of his merc group to use only melee weapons so today would be no different.

He caught a glance of his acquaintance, Maya or Scarlet, destroy a shot-gun while looking at the camera and he laughed. Just as hot-headed like she was before. When the gates raised and the monsters started to pour out he pounced into the fray, swinging large wide strong strokes with his axe. Decimating almost everything that jumped at him. He contemplated attacking one of the gladiators for better equipment but nah. Monsters were a bit more fun. It was only when he saw a monster sneak up on Scarlet from the corner of his eye did he stop attacking furiously. Instead running over and slicing its skull off the moment it pounced.

"Heya Scarlet." Cid grinned before turning around to take care of a straggler as well.
 
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Red the Ripper was probably one of the only people to willing run towards the danger. She couldn't help it, she had been so excited about the new cycle, it'd just happened. She had started next to a cage with a mutant that looking like a cross between a giant polar bear and bull. It had the head of the bear, with two horns curving out of it's head. It's body was the shape of a bull, but covered in white fur. The thing rawred at her, pawing the ground with it's hooves. She grinned crazily at it, and rawred right back. As the bell sounded, she ran forward, right towards the charging bull. She branished her two short swords and slid under the beast, carving the soft underbelly like a roast turkey. She was up on her feet in a flash, watching the monster stumble and be put to death by another fighter. Laughing, she smeared the blood on her hands all over her face. Red found herself grinning widely and ran into the fray to collect more kills.
 
I nodded to Ace and turned around to face my enemy. I saw a gladiator trying to climb up a wall, he was shot several times by guards equipped with the lastest combat suits and anti-matter rifles. I had stories of those who had survived the shots, the flesh being eaten away by the mysterious particles and the constant pain and mutations. I shuddered. But I couldn't focus on that, there were people to fight. I saw some girl who had blood all over her hands and face and was tearing people apart. I knew I didn't want her next to me.

A man ran up to me brandishing a rapier. He thrust his sword but I managed to hit it out of the way. He was bringing his sword back up when I kicked him right in the groin. He fell back in pain and I drove my dirk into him and took his rapier. There was lettering on the side of the blade, not lettering, a symbol. It was a symbol of the Roman Mafia. The government had to have taken most of the weapons from evidence lockers. I knew this weapon had probably killed a few merchants or gamblers in it's time.

The combat was mostly centered around a few people now, a lot of people picking off the large teams and obviously good fighters. To make it this far, I knew you had to be good or lucky. It was no doubt that I was the latter. Anyone who has hiding or running away were being picked off by the guards and their anti matter rifles. I saw our combat was thinning down to only a few groups. I turned to Ace. "We've got to get to the bigger combat fast. If we don't the guards will pick us off as we get the rest of these guys, or they get us I suppose."
 
Red drove the two swords into the larger man's chest, pulling them across his torso while he coughed up blood down her back. Her black clothes were soaked into blood, reminding her of the sand in the arena. It was so bad, she had to be careful where she stepped, or she'd end up skidding on the crimson surface. She joined other gladiators as they raced to attack a larger group of huddled fighters. She laughed as the scene made her think of a pack of frenzied wolves attacking a herd of deer. That were armed to the teeth. Well, details, details.
 
Issac was one of those who didn't really participate in the combat. He spent most of his time evading, dodging, and running. He'd keep one step ahead of the sword and aware of his surroundings. He let other people take out each other and keep him alive. He did however manage to get his hands on a rather simple pistol during the distribution of items, but he kept it in reserve. He had checked the ammunition in the magazine. Two bullets. "Damn," he muttered quietly to himself. He looks back up to the combat. He had no time to idle.

Around him were multitudes of people slaughtering each other. One was doing well for himself, despite his scrawny looking exterior. More noticeably, was a girl that smeared herself with the blood of her fallen enemies; a true barbarian. It was scary to say the least. He contemplated taking a shot at her, but his shaking hands said otherwise. Instead, he took aim at a nearby combatant and fired. The bullet managed to find it's way through his armor and pierce the throat. It was his first kill...ever. He felt horrible about it, but he couldn't dwell on it now unless he wants to get picked off by the guards or other gladiators.

He needed to procure a more reliable weapon. A knife or dirk would be preferable. He's had experience with knife throwing and it was light enough to suit his needs. Conveniently, the guy he had killed had a dirk on him. He smirked as he ran over to it, desperately picking it up. Just picking it up had made him feel more sure of his chances. If only he could fight...
 
As the gladiators were still being lined up before the action began, Faye was already a nervous wreck. She had hunted animals and large game before, but never were they trying to kill her, nor were there several hundred other people trying to accomplish the same. She stood, bare feet in the hot sand, waiting for the doors to open. She knew she couldn't let the fear show - once anyone else smelled fear they'd almost certainly target her right away.

One of the guards, a tall, hulking giant of a man, was pacing down the lines making sure everyone was behaving. When the guard caught sight of Faye, he snorted a laugh. Looking her up and down, at first to size her up and then a few more times simply out of perversion, he approached Faye. "Wot's a nice-lookin' pretty little Roman girl doing 'ere wit these savages? I tell you wot," he leaned in closer, even though he still spoke just as loudly, "I can git you out of 'ere. Git all your charges dropped and debts repaid - just join me in me bed for a few days!" The guard bellowed with laughter at his own joke, prompting some other nearby guards to laugh along.

Unfazed, Faye continued to look straight ahead, not making eye contact with the man. Her jaw clenched in anger as she hissed through clenched teeth, "Don't call me that."

The guard stopped laughing momentarily to look at Faye with amused bewilderment. "Call you wot? A girl? Oi mate, if you're a boy, you're the prettiest boy I've ever seen, and I'd STILL take you into me bed!" He guffawed again, this time louder than the last. Now even some other gladiators were laughing at Faye's expense, not just the guards.

Now Faye turned to face him, staring up fearlessly at this man who was nearly three times her size. It must have seemed to be an odd juxtaposition, this female David staring up at her metaphorical Goliath. "Don't call me... a 'Roman'. I'm an American." Bold words for someone who had never even stepped foot on American soil. Yet she said it with so much conviction, even Faye herself started to believe it was true.

There were murmurs among other gladiators, but the guard was unshaken. "Never 'ad me an American wench before. Thought they might've gone extinct!" The bells started to sound, signaling that the match was about to begin. "Don't worry lassie," the guard continued as he prepared to open the gates, "from what I know about Americans, you won't last but a few seconds in the Arena. Hopefully wot ever gets you killed out there doesn't mutilate you so badly that I can't still have me way with your corpse."

The guard pulled some levers and the gates swung open, allowing the gladiators to spill out into the arena. As Faye approached the gates, a guard abruptly handed her a short sword. She eyed it cautiously, knowing that even though she had no idea how to use it, some weapon was still better than no weapon. Uncomfortable with her random weapon assignment, Faye decided it would be best to stay away from the beasts of the arena and instead focus on the other humans - at least she was on more equal footing with them.

Standing off to the side of the arena, Faye could do nothing but watch in horror as the beasts were released. She watched them tear through some of the gladiators, and watched some of the other gladiators tear right back. For but a brief moment, Faye thought she might have made a bad decision coming to the arena. She didn't have much time to ponder though, as she quickly noticed in her peripheral vision a large, brutish man with an equally large spear, barreling towards her. He raised the spear to strike as he approached, and thrust it forward at her.

Reacting quickly, Faye dove off to her attacker's left; the man was right handed, so she figured he would have difficulty adjusting the large weapon in close quarters, especially on his weak side. Indeed, he took some time to readjust, and Faye capitalized by quickly swiping with her short sword and leaving a gash in the brute's left arm. The cut only served to anger him more, as he began to thrust the spear repeatedly at her in a bloodthirsty rage. Utilizing her speed and reflexes, Faye had to resort to ducking and dodging, hoping to tire out the man and regain the upper hand.

Just as she felt the brute was beginning to tire, one of his spear thrusts glanced Faye's left side, triggering a flash of searing pain as it cut through her leather jacket and gashed her flesh. She cried out from the pain as blood seeped through and began to stain her clothing, and adrenaline rushed into her veins. Rather than stay and fight harder though, Faye did what she did best: she ran.

Her feet carried her deftly through the crowds of other gladiators, with the brute still trying to follow her, hoping to earn his first kill. As she began to gain some distance from him, she made her way into a more wide open area and readied her short sword, waiting for him to emerge from the melee. The moment she caught sight of him, she lifted the sword above and behind her head with both hands, and heaved it forward at him with all her might. It flipped and spun through the air, somehow finding its target and burying the blade in the brute's abdomen. The momentum of the sword sent him staggering back into the crowd, where Faye assumed other gladiators would finish the job.

She let out a breath of relief. "Well, that was effective." Looking around her for other throwing weapons, she soon spotted a belt of throwing daggers that someone had dropped earlier. Acting quickly, she strapped it on her waist and began to continue dispatching other fighters.
 
( I had a total patriotic moment when she said 'I'm an American'. Yep, you and I are going to be the best of friends.)

Time seemed to have no place in battles like these. You can't tell if it's only been seconds, or an eternity. Red ripped through a short, fat man's throat, ducking just in time to avoid a stray bullet. The crowd was roaring their pleasure, stomping their feet and waving their arms. She threw one of her swords, and it buried itself in the shooter's chest, where she retrieved it an instant later.

She wondered vaguely, as her swords found themselves tearing away a man's limbs, if her parents were watching from where they were now. She really hoped not. They should be at peace, drinking fresh tea outside in the sunshine or something, not watching their only daughter gleefully remove a giant....(wolf/lamb?)'s tail.
 
As the horn prepared to sound, Wilhelm looked back down at what he had been assigned to fight with.

A sharpened toothbrush.
God either wants to send me a message about my hygiene, or outright hates me.

He looked back up at his assigned adversary, the monster was just as slimy as before. It slightly reminded him of a giant piece of Jello molded into the shape of an obese sumo wrestler, but he wasn't one to judge. He could practically smell the filth on it... Reeking, Disgusting filth. He tensed, feeling the vibration of the horn blast through him as the battle commenced. Oh man... Wilhelm didn't want to be here, he wanted to be home! He wasn't one for killing, he had never killed anything in his life before!
Besides that one guy.
Wilhelm took a deep breathe, and focused. He needed to survive, so he needed to show himself to be entertaining at least- or die trying. He began to wonder what type of death he would suffer... Suddenly, his monster urged towards him, and he was snapped out of his stupor. This was his chance to prove himself to the audience, he mustn't waste it-

He threw his toothbrush at the beast and ran the opposite way.

The sound of raging warfare and souls being ripped from their mortal shells spurred Wilhelm to run very fast towards the wall- then the guns of the guards spurred Wilhelm to run very fast away from the wall. His head down as he tried to regulate his breathe, he was not able to register another man in front of him before it was too late. They collided and toppled, Wilhelm yelled as he and the other man thrashed about on the floor- kicking and punching like madmen... Then Wilhelm realized he was the only one kicking and punching. The other man stared limply at Wilhelm, the knife through his neck drenched in blood. Something clicked, and Wilhelm rolled the dead man back onto him. Then, Wilhelm held very still, daring himself not to breathe.
 
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Davron stepped into a roaring stadium, hands behind him. Looking at the people running towards each other with intent to kill, he smirked. He had never done something like this before, but he already loved it. The first thing he saw running towards him with an axe, he shot it in the head with a crossbow rifle given to him, and threw it behind him.

Using the extender hand, he grabbed the axe from the dead man and threw it at the next gladiator he saw. A repeatitive theme of taking a dead gladiator's weapon and throwing it at or hitting another took place. He had so much fun and satisfaction throwing a weapon and successfully killing something. It was like kicking a ball and making it right into the goal.

Then he spotted something by the corner of his eye- a dead man, higher up off the ground than he should be. Walking over to it, he kicked it over and revealed someone hiding under. "Well, well, what do we have here?" He said, picking the person up by their shirt. "That spot will never work. Cleaver, though." He chuckled. "Tell you what- stay next to me, watch my back and don't try and kill me, and you can live."
 
Shit.

Wilhelm pushed himself away, his hands alternating between wiping blood from himself and raising in surrender.

"L-Look, friend, that sounds like a lovely idea- but you wouldn't want my help. Trust me. I don't even have a weapon and I don't know how to use any. I'll die either way, there are other people for you to hunt. Please?"
 
"You're right about one thing, I don't want your help." He chuckled. "However, I'm a Crazy psycopath who's intentions aren't always clear and strightforward. And today is your lucky day because my unclear and appearantly twisted mind decides that you, whoever-you-are, gets to live by order of me." Davron declared.

He dusted the other a bit. "I'm sure a little... sprusing up and..." He paused for a moment. "Wait, 'friend'? I'm almost absoulutly sure that was just a figure of speech, but I don't care, you're my new friend weather you resist or not!" He laughed. "Now follow me, watch for incoming gladiators, and duck when I say. Now follow me before we get shot or hit and you die a slow and painful death."
 
Wilhelm tenses, taking a step back.

"Lovely speech, you could be the next Emperor if you put your mind to it I'm sure. But I..."

He twitches.

"I don't have a weapon, I'll go find one to be of use to you- really. So uh... Yeah."

He takes another step back watching him cautiously.
 
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Issac was staggering around the arena, struggling to keep up with the rush of battle. He was getting tired, reckless. Those were traits he couldn't afford. If he delayed for even a moment, it could mean the death of him. Unfortunately, there are limits to the human body, and he's relatively out of shape. He couldn't handle it all. He needed help soon, or at least stay out of the main heat.

He leaned against a pillar to try and regain his breath. The coast was clear for the time being, but the other gladiators would soon find him. The respite was at least enough to regain his strength so he can go for a little while longer while they kill each other.

Steeling himself, he rushed out of his cover and back into the fray. Looking at the number of combatants, there have been a large culling of them. In those short moments a lot of the combatants were dead or dying. It meant better chances of survival on his end. He kept his dirk close to him and slashed nimbly at unsuspecting fighters, knowing that in frontal combat he had no chance. He just had to hold out for a little while longer.
 
(...........so.........how long will this go on again?)

Red the Ripper paused to catch her breath, flicking her wrists to rid her short swords of the blood on them. She was surrounded by bloody mounds of flesh that were her victims. She was in the eye of the storm, the red lake of crimson she had creat her temporary refuge. Gladiators battled for dominance all around her, screaming and shouting as their instinct for survival drove them to become monsters.
 
As the battle bore on, Faye grew increasingly tired. Her clothes were stained with a mixture of blood, sweat and dirt, and the gash wound in her side from earlier (thankfully her only major injury so far), was still bleeding. It had begun to clot, but without real medical treatment it might never fully heal. Her initial plans to use her agility to her advantage were still working, but only because every other fighter was as tired as she was. Her movement was now considerably slower, less fluid. Taking a quick survey across the arena, she could see there weren't many gladiators left - what started as a horde had thinned out to a few dozen.

Exhausted, Faye reluctantly retrieved a dagger from a man she had just killed, tossing it in her own hands a few times to regain a feel for its weight and balance. The small blade was a weapon she had handled with such fluency earlier, and now even the dagger seemed heavy and burdensome. Coiling her arm back, she then stepped forward and flung the dagger forward, embedding the dagger in another gladiator's shoulder. Her target, tired and worn as well, fell to the ground more out of exhaustion than from pain.

Faye had over exerted herself. She dropped to one knee, struggling to catch her breath. But every time she inhaled, the dust and sand that had been kicked up into the air dried and parched her lungs and throat. It was all just an endurance game now. "I have.. to keep going..." she muttered aloud to herself.
 
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